


Strictly Business

by RitaM



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Ruddy Gore, episode s01e06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RitaM/pseuds/RitaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jack is strictly business".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strictly Business

**Author's Note:**

> It was time to write someone other than Jack. I wrote Phryne (of course Jack sneaked in). Dot may or may not be next....
> 
> EDIT: thank you all for lovely comments! It's a tough moment in my life, and watching the show/writing fic helps me keep my head together - and discussing things with fellow fans is just the best! Much love <3

Lin's eyes were hurt. There was no way around it.

Phryne took a deep breath. That was the hard part. Hard, because she did care about him - perhaps more so for having called it wrong that first time. Opium trade, indeed. The question had to be asked, and she wasn't sorry, but she'd been judged on sight often enough. It was a rare moment, when, lit by the excitement of the chase, she'd make such a mistake.

And here he was now, after she let him into her parlour and her bed, asking for more. Phryne smiled to herself, careful not to let it show. He was young yet, and for all his fighting skills, he'd not been in the war. He wanted safety, exclusivity and - she shuddered - marriage. Oh, he wasn't saying it now, but that was what he truly wanted, promises and bonds and butterflies pinned down, to be safely admired and owned. He was fascinated by her, but she'd met enough men like him, who'd sooner conquer than love. Who'd want to conquer and call it love. Her experience with René was an extreme example, perhaps, but in any case, sweet Lin, dabbling in Western pleasures, but not committed to fulltime rebellion - wasn't for her. 

For all his railing against Grandma Lin, she mused, when the time came, he'd happily take his place in the family machine. Phryne mourned the thought of it - this velvet-eyed youth becoming a cold patriarch of a soulless trade - but the signs were there. Nobody was ever the same person after the bloom came off the rose. She knew it best of all.

The hint of jealousy in those beautiful eyes... that was more than she could take. Jack was, indeed, strictly business, but so was she; the business was her pleasure. Nobody would take it away from her, not Lin, not police, nor any other man. And if she flirted with Jack, that was her business alone. Jack didn't exactly flirt back, much, and when he did, there was another pleasure in it that she would not be deprived of. Was there a joy as great as getting Jack Robinson to _play?_

Not to mention that she knew Jack cared for her in a very real way, worried for her safety. He seemed to be that rare thing: all the care, no expectations or push for commitment. She supposed it came with the territory of a married man (a faithful one, at least), but she knew better than to assume all married men would be that gracious. No, Jack Robinson was one of a kind, in more ways than one.

Presently, she smiled at Lin and let him down gently. She knew how to do it: a touch of a hand, an assurance of feelings, pulling back enough to make her meaning clear. She couldn't heal his broken heart for him - or what he fondly imagined as broken heart - and he had enough manners not to expect her to do so. And if, when he left, she let her smile out, that could not exactly hurt him.


End file.
